


Occupational Hazard

by decadent_mousse



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:40:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decadent_mousse/pseuds/decadent_mousse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann overworks himself and gets a migraine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Occupational Hazard

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift for [geniusbee](http://geniusbee.tumblr.com/)! Happy birthday, friend! :D

Hermann wasn’t sure who he was more annoyed with at the moment – his body for betraying him, or himself for ignoring the migraine until the pain was so severe he simply couldn’t focus on his work any longer.  Even his usual dosage of pain medication hadn’t done much to hinder it.  He shuddered to think how much worse it might have been _without_ it.

He had worked for as long as he’d been able to.  When the pain had gotten bad enough, he had moved from his chalkboard to his desk, and when the pain got worse and the letters and numbers on his computer screen started to feel as though they were drilling through his eyes and into his brain, he reluctantly turned the computer off and moved to the couch – a piece of furniture he was suddenly very, very grateful to have nearby.

“Hey, are you alright?”

He opened his eyes and glanced towards Newton’s side of the lab.  The biologist had turned away from his latest kaiju sample and was looking at him with concern.  He hadn’t noticed anything amiss when Hermann had sat at his desk – after all, Hermann did plenty of his work on his computer, as well – but his move to the couch had apparently set off some bells.

In truth, between the pain and the fact that Newton was being blessedly quiet this evening, he had half-forgotten the other man was even still in the lab.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, closing his eyes again.

“Yeah, sure, that sounded really convincing.  Is your leg bugging you?”

“No.”

“Headache?”

He groaned.  “Newton.”

“Migraine.  You’ve been working too hard again.”

“Says the man who’s been up to his elbows in kaiju entrails for the past several hours without end.”

“Yeah, but I make sure to move around and stretch a little every once in awhile.   _You_ get so tense, it’s probably a miracle your head doesn’t just pop like a balloon.”

That painted a rather vivid – and gruesome – mental image.  Hermann grimaced.

"Do you want something to eat?"  
  
"I doubt it would help."   
  
Or that he would be able to keep anything down, for that matter, even if he’d been inclined to try.  Nausea had discreetly added itself to his migraine's arsenal hours ago and lying down had helped somewhat, but he doubted that he was in any condition to eat anything substantial.  
  
"Alright."  
  
Newton was quiet for a few moments, and Hermann had assumed he was going to continue his dissection, but he heard footsteps move across the room and wearily opened his eyes again.  The other man was across the room, turning on a small, mostly decorative lamp.  Once he finished with that one, he walked over to the opposite corner of the room and turned on the rocket-shaped lava lamp he had bought Hermann for his birthday several years ago.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

By the time Newton answered, he was over near the door to the lab, fingers hovering over the light switch for the room’s primary lights.

“Making the room a little more migraine-friendly.”

He flipped the switch, and the room got considerably darker – illuminated only by the couple of lamps he had turned on a moment ago.  The sudden absence of the harsh glare of the Shatterdome’s lighting system did come as something of a relief.

“You can’t work like this,” Hermann pointed out.

“Well, then I guess I won’t work for awhile, huh?”

“You cannot just–”

“I can just, and I am just.  Hey, I’m a grown man, and if I wanna slack off, I’m gonna slack off.”  Newt wiggled his eyebrows.  “What are you gonna do, report me?”

Hermann rolled his eyes, then closed them again.  

Newton’s footsteps came closer.  He said, in a voice clearly meant to be a crude imitation of Hermann’s.  “‘Marshal, Dr. Geiszler is being an attentive boyfriend, please make him stop.”

“You are ridiculous,” he muttered.

“Here, sit up.”

“I’d really rather not.”

“Dude, I promise, you won’t regret it.”

Hermann cracked his eyes open.  “I’ve heard that before.”

Newt stood beside the couch, peering down at him.  “Oh, come on, you _usually_ don’t regret it.”

The room felt like it tilted around him as he sat up.  Lying down had held the nausea at bay somewhat and the dimmed lights had also helped, but he could feel it rising to the surface again at the movement.

“It’s okay if you need to puke.  I can get a bucket.”

Hermann held his throbbing head in his hands, digging his palms into his eyes.  “I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that, man, and it’s not any more convincing than the first couple of times you said it.”

Hermann felt the couch dip with Newton’s weight.  A few moments later, he felt warm hands press firmly against his shoulders.  

“Let me know if I’m rubbing too hard, okay?”

He nodded wordlessly, and Newt began to rub – gently at first, then a bit harder.  It was occasionally painful, but certainly not as bad as the pain Hermann was already feeling, and he could feel his muscles gradually loosen under his hands.

“No wonder you got a headache, your muscles are all bunched up.  You’re wound way too tight.”

Hermann groaned softly as Newt’s hands worked their way downward, massaging his back.  

“How’s that feel?”

“Divine.”

“You’re tight all over.  Are you _naturally_ this tense, or does it take work to make every single muscle in your body knot up?”

“You’re not really in any position to point fingers, Newton.  Have you forgotten that incident five months ago?”

He felt Newton’s lips brush his ear.  “That wasn’t work-related, though.”

If he’d been feeling a less like death, he might’ve had a flirtatious response for that.  Instead, he simply chuckled softly and continued to enjoy Newton’s massage.  Newt kissed his ear, before pulling back and turning the rest of his attention back to his efforts.

Newton had magnificent hands.  For all his bluster, he could maneuver gracefully when it suited him.  He wasn’t sure if it was something honed by the constant scalpel work or some sort of natural talent, but nevertheless–

He reached a spot along the small of his back and Hermann decided to stop thinking much of anything for awhile.  Thinking hurt – being awake hurt – but the massage felt _good_.  It occasionally felt like someone was setting his muscles on fire, but in a way that felt cathartic and helpful, not outright painful.

“Thank you for this,” Hermann said softly, leaning into Newt’s tender touches.

“You’re welcome.  I mean, it’s not like I could just stand and watch you suffer.”

“You could.”

Newton snorted.  “But I _wouldn’t_.  Give me a little credit, dude.”

The massage continued on for awhile.  Hermann was in no condition to keep track of time properly.  It may have been a few minutes, it could have been an hour.  Newton knew just how much to work on an area before moving to another, and kept moving periodically up and down Hermann’s back and neck.

Eventually he leaned back and settled against Newton with a weary sigh.  Newt pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

“Wanna take a nap?”

That was a tempting proposition.  It wasn’t as though he’d be able to get much work done in his current state.

“I’m guessing I can’t talk you into heading back to our room for the day, huh?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I kinda figured.”

“Once I feel well enough, I fully intend to go back to work.”

“Well, _I_ fully intend to cuddle you until you fall asleep.”

Earlier Hermann would have scoffed at the idea.  Not because he found it unappealing, necessarily, but simply because he had been in so much pain that sleep seemed unlikely.  His migraine was by no means gone now, but Newton’s massaging had relaxed him enough that sleep felt a bit more reachable.

“I suppose a short nap couldn’t hurt.”

“See, that’s how I know you’re _really_ not feeling good, you gave in way too easy,” Newt teased, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  “You need a blanket or anything?  Are you comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I’m likely to get,” Hermann replied.  “And, no, I’m–”

“–fine, I know.”

He was a bit cold, but getting a blanket would require one of them to get up, and he didn’t feel like moving for awhile if he could help it.  Besides, Newton was a warm, solid weight beneath and around him, and it helped combat any cold he might have felt.

“I think you’re dozing off, Dr. Gonna Get Right Back To Work In Five Seconds.”

“Nonsense.”

Newton was right, but Hermann certainly wasn’t about to admit it.  He pressed his face into his neck and sighed softly.

“Hey, that tickles.”

“Occupational hazard,” Hermann murmured as he fell asleep.


End file.
